


The Trick

by Ayes



Category: Twilight RPF
Genre: F/M, Flirting, House Party, Magic Tricks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12472080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayes/pseuds/Ayes
Summary: They smoke with a spare seat between them and Robert singing softly, under his breath, the dirtiest songs he knows.





	The Trick

His laugh is louder and warmer than everyone expects, and it continues on until it's an embarrassing kind of low chuckle or guffaw and everyone is laughing too.  
  
If he likes his interviewer he raises his eyebrows and smiles with them when they shake hands. Otherwise his natural distracted apearance is more and more distracted, until he just looks high as fuck.  
  
Especially if Kristen smokes him out beforehand.  
  
***  
  
The post-interview bowl is in the back of Robert's towncar, which Kristen's bodyguard is driving. They're only hanging out because they need to arrive at something together later on, and with like three hours to kill, the best thing to do is hang out.  
  
"Second best actually," Kristen asserts, her thumb in the bowl to prevent anything falling out as he crumbles hash. She moves her thumb so he can sprinkle it on top, and his hands brush hers. "The best thing to do would be going somewhere I can't smell you."  
  
"That's the animal magnetism," he insists, as he always does. She snorts, and looks out the window.  
  
Robert rubs her hand with his thumb and she looks down to see that he's rubbing some of the hash off her her finger. She pulls her hand away and reaches into his jacket pocket. He looks down his nose interestedly, but she's only retrieving a lighter.  
  
They smoke with a spare seat between them and Robert singing softly, under his breath, the dirtiest songs he knows.  
  
***  
  
Kristen's friend Ana was having a birthday party for her ex-boyfriend at her step-mother's house, and Kristen brought Rob, because he insisted.  
  
He'd been there when Ana called her in the first place, and that was the only reason that he even knew about it. At first Kristen was against it, and then realized that seeing her drunk and ignoring him for her actual _friends_ might do something about the way he harassed her.  
  
Of course it had backfired, and Ana's ex-boyfriend brought a lot of people that she didn't know, and Kristen found herself on the fringes of a party with Ana, drunk as shit and forced to witness Rob's good time.  
  
He was surrounded, as he usually was, by a half circle of people. He appeared as drunk as she was, and the mix of people around him were hanging off of his every word. He was tall and glittering with the sweat of alcohol and summer heat, seeming as dangerously shiny as he did on every other fucking day, just in a more obvious way now.  
  
He's amused by attention, she knows, and appreciates an audience when he thinks he's being funny more than he seeks out any real fame. He's a fucking _performer_ , down to the trick cards she sees in his hands, and she hates that she knows that about him.  
  
"Kristen!" he crowed, on spotting her pass. "Tell everyone here how you're in love with me."  
  
"I am not," she seethed, sucking tequila out of the sleeve of her hoodie, "in love with you."  
  
"Ah yes," he said sagely, turning his mourning eyes back to the cluster of his stolen friends. "yet."  
  
Kristen stifled her urge to murder and stalked off.  
  
***  
  
"Why are we storming away?"  
  
"What?" Kristen slowed down outside the bathroom so that Ana could catch her. "I'm not storming."  
  
"You're stormy as fuck." Ana leveled her dark, serious eyes at Kristen. "Are we not going to address this crush?"  
  
Three girls exited the bathroom together, giggling, and Kristen waited for them to be gone before replying. "There is no crush. I don't have any crush. He has a crush on me."  
  
"Lies," Rob stage-whispers behind her, and then slips into the bathroom, locking her out.  
  
***  
  
"Okay, so." Kristen is sitting on Edward's perfectly-made bed, her bare legs crossed while they bring her a dress with the chronologically correct amount of wear and tear. Someone is holding that weird light detector thing in front of her face and over her shoulders, clicking and glancing at it and invading her personal space in turns. Robert keeps looking at her shorts. "Stop it."  
  
"What?" He rifles the pages of his scene, not even bothering to pretend to look toward it.  
  
"Just stop it."  
  
He grins at her, wolfishly. "Want to see me do magic?"  
  
"Just because I'm a girl," Kristen stressed, "doesn't mean that I like you."  
  
Rob tilted his head. "I don't follow."  
  
They brought the dress back in.  
  
***  
  
It's not that Robert is stupid. Sometimes she can feel his darkness like it's something in the room with them, and that makes his glibness even worse. The way he shrugs things off like nothing is important, or everything is equally important, and that means doing things like irritate Kristen and learning magic tricks.  
  
He wasn't kidding about the magic tricks, after all, and she only finds it out when she comes upon him pulling a scarf out of the makeup girl's blouse. Kristen stares at the yards of colorful fabric that are pooling between Robert's feet and the girls', tangling them where they stood, the bloom of canary yellow silk that pushed up between the girl's breasts.  
  
It's an awfully stupid thing to feel betrayed over.  
  
***  
  
Kristen has been punishing Rob for three days by not talking to him, even though he doesn't know what she saw and she doesn't know why she thinks she's punishing him.  
  
He hasn't even noticed.  
  
"See what I did with it? And then you put your fists together-" Rob shows her his fists, babbling happily about yet another magic trick. "It's like it was never there."  
  
"Was it there?"  
  
Rob looks up, startled, seemingly taken aback and looking at her for the first time since he'd walked into her hotel room and said "Want to see this quarter disappear?"  
  
"You didn't see the quarter disappear?" he says now, and Kristen swallows, feeling the muscles in her throat slide around and her stomach turn to ice.  
  
"Why don't you put your fists together and shove them up your ass," she suggests in a cheerful voice, and his serious expression is both the last thing she expects to see, and the last thing she sees before a fuse somewhere blows, and the lights go out.  
  
***  
  
Kristen has a lot of confused feelings toward Robert, and a lot of confused signals are sent to her thighs as a result, as well as to someplace that she thinks is her stomach but could easily be her kidneys for all she knows of the squishy places inside of her. And it hurts.  
  
Especially sitting side-by-side in the dark.  
  
She'd be damned before telling _him_ any of this, however, and huddles up a little more grumpily, arms clutched about her knees.  
  
Robert shifts his weight, and she can hear him breathing in the darkness. She _hears_ him lick his lips, and so she isn't startled when he speaks, just fighting all those confused feelings off again.  
  
"What would you do if you weren't famous?" he said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, we're kind of on a path here. Our options have both expanded and contracted as different factors gain mass, or as they cool." He peers at her as though expecting her to understand. She understands that this is a world that she'd never have met him, that they're discussing. Whether he cares about that part of not.  
  
"Why arent you doing any magic tricks," she says, avoiding the question.  
  
"It's dark." So dark his voice sounds impossibly low and close and she is over-aware of the scratchy carpet and the way she's about to break a sweat for no reason.  
  
She offers him a weak answer. "I guess I'd get a bunch of tattoos." Kristen warms to the thought. "Everywhere. Roses and blackwork."  
  
"The Dark Mark," he suggests.  
  
"What?" they laugh. It's quiet.  
  
"I'd ride a bike," he says, and she forgets what he is talking about before the lights go back on and the phone rings so that the front desk can assure everyone that everything is fine and the minibars will be comped  tonight.  
  
Later, she's acutely and infinitely sad that too many people care about Robert to let him ride a bicycle somewhere there are people.  
  
***  
  
Kristen likes it when he holds onto her too tightly after they have sex, which they do, eventually.  
  
"I knew you wanted me," he said gleefully, in the aftermath.  
  
"Yeah, I used to," she said, wrinkling her nose as they sorted through their clothing. "What was _that_?"  
  
He looks shocked, and even horrified, before he sees her face, and she giggles helplessly as he tackles her. And then holds on tight.  
  
She likes it, when he does that, but she puts a stop to it quickly enough.  
  
***  
  
She's on his lap on the couch, knees tucked into the back of it, her thighs presed flush against his hips. He turns her, places her back on the cushions and she settles back by instinct as he slides down her body, pressing kisses to her chest and grazing her nipples with his teeth through her wifebeater undershirt, the one that used to be his.  
  
His nose bumps her leg, or her leg bumps his nose, and she apologizes even as he wrestles her pants off of her feet, and now her feet are in his face, so she puts them back on the floor, until he pushes her calves apart and drops on his knees to the carpet.  
  
Her panties are removed and then his mouth is on her, warm and somehow soft, pressure building somewhere in her body as he presses his tongue against her clit and his nose against her one-or-two-day stubble.  
  
When she's arching against him, her mind working too fast to focus on anything, he grips her knees and shuts his eyes and rubs his mouth slowly, deliberately, over her most sensitive places, his beard scraping her just slowly enough to tease and just rough enough to burn.  
  
He doesn't let her come until his mouth is back on hers and he tastes strange and familiar and he is hot inside of her.  
  
***  
  
It's been a short summer this year, and she wears sweaters and hoodies over her shorts now. The sky seems like it's always orange, even late into the night, and the humidity in the air feels like an oppressive blanket.  
  
They're on the roof, Robert with a stack of tricks.  
  
"It's all an illusion," he shows her, going slowly so she can see the way he palms the quarter in the first three seconds and doesn't move it afterward. "Misdirection. The trick isn't over until you're looking in the wrong place."  
  
"What if you kept going?" she asks.  
  
He sighs, looks over their calves and her yard and the roaches of their joints. The trees are brown already, leaves getting thinner and the sun coming down over a layer of smog that looks like dust. "Then it never ends."  
  
He puts the coin down.  
  
Kristen loops her pinky through his.


End file.
